Deceived (Burned Book 2) Page 12

  He walked calmly around his desk, each movement calculated and measured.

  "I appreciate your honesty, Daniel, delayed as it might be." He glided toward the younger man, whose eyes were narrowed in caution.

  I refused to believe he'd forgive Daniel so easily. He had something up his sleeve.

  "What are your intentions now that Kyra is branded a traitor and no longer welcome in my House?" Alejandro's hand landed on Daniel's shoulder. A gentle, fatherly gesture. One so familiar it made my heart ache.

  Alejandro thought of Daniel almost like a son. I didn't know if he'd ever had children. We never talked about what his life was before he was changed. The gesture was one I'd seen him use often with my friend.

  It couldn't be that easy. Not even Daniel's special place in the House could override the demand for strict loyalty.

  "I know I am no longer able to see her. I accept that."

  All careful words. Calculated truths chosen wisely.

  Alejandro cleared his throat and stared into Daniel's clear blue eyes.

  "I know you've aspired to turn for years now. You have been both consistent and clear with this intention."

  Wait. Was he going to—?

  "I value honesty highly, as you well know, and loyalty. Loyalty above all else."

  He turned Daniel so that the younger man's back met Alejandro's front. One arm wrapped around him, embracing him from behind.

  Daniel's empty eyes caught mine. "Yes. I wanted an eternity. An eternity without fear."

  He refused to flinch. Even when Alejandro's fangs slid into his neck, he never made a sound of protest.

  Was he really going to get what he'd always wanted?

  The blank expression on Daniel's face made me wonder. Did he want it anymore?

  I tried to look away. I wanted to. But it was like a car wreck, the macabre curiosity an invisible draw forcing everyone's attention to the tragedy ahead.

  I watched as Alejandro drank deep, his throat working as he swallowed Daniel's life-giving blood.

  Daniel's eyes fluttered closed, his long eyelashes brushing his pale cheeks.

  His body sagged; it hung boneless and limp in Alejandro's arms. When there was nothing left for Alejandro to take, he lifted his head, his mouth smeared with my friend's blood. Balancing Daniel's limp body effortlessly, Alejandro wrapped his other arm around his neck.

  And yanked.

  The cracking of his spine reverberated like a gunshot ricocheting in the silence of the empty office.

  "Pudricion en el infierno, traidor," Alejandro snarled as blood-tinged spit landed on Daniel's body. Alejandro released him and allowed gravity to take over. His body landed with a thud as it smacked against the hard floor.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Thud. The sound of Daniel's body as it smacked into the hard tile haunted me. That sound was his ghost. I heard it in my nightmares.

  The stillness… No, the emptiness that followed was almost unbearable.

  Did I scream? Cry?

  No.

  I stood. Still. Frozen.

  I listened as Alejandro gave instructions for the disposal of his body. His body. He was no longer Daniel. I couldn't think of the lifeless corpse as my friend. The ache in my heart was too much. The body was carted off to wherever Alejandro tossed his leftover people. Because that's what we were to him: disposable.

  I stiffly followed Alejandro to his condo, blinking as his long fingers wrapped around my wrist. I could see his fingers on my skin but I couldn't feel them. I stared at them in confusion. Their grip tightened and jerked me forward.

  "Haven't you heard a word I've said?" Alejandro's voice dipped, his eyes were narrowed and dangerous.

  "I-I'm sorry Alejandro. I just—" My words tried to stick in my dry throat. "I don't feel myself right now."

  "Ah yes. Daniel." He tsked. "I should have warned you, I suppose." His fingers loosened, allowing my numb arm to drop from his grip. "I forget sometimes that you are still human. 'Tis a pity, my dear. You'd make a splendid vampire."

  I was suspended in time. The breath crystallized in my lungs. Fear—like I'd never known—rocketed through me.

  I didn't want to be turned. I didn't want to be like him.

  While I didn't want to die, I certainly didn't want to live forever. Live to watch everyone around me change and grow old while I stayed frozen, unchanging like stone.

  I never wanted to see others as disposable. We all had value.

  My foundation was torn from beneath me. My axis tilted.

  What had I done?

  My hands trembled behind me as I clenched them together.

  "Alejandro. I'm upset at the loss of my friend." I swallowed thickly as I forced the words through stiff lips, my heart steady despite my chilled blood. "I'd like a few days to mourn him."

  There would be no funeral, no gravestone where I could mourn his passing. His body would eventually be tossed in the bay. I didn't allow my mind to go further, to think of the horrid damage the warm salty water would do to his body. What the creatures would do.

  No. I had to focus. To think only of what I needed to do to get through this moment, then the next. And the next after that until pretending to be normal was natural.

  My future stretched before me. Bleak. Colorless. Empty.

  "You may have two days."

  I forced my features to show no reaction other than the calm acceptance that he wanted to see. But inside I was railing at him, kicking and screaming.

  Two days? How do you mourn the most important person in your life in two days? Daniel's existence made my life bearable. Without him I was a balloon untethered, floating wherever the wind blew me.

  But with his loss, I had to face reality.

  My life was far different than I pretended it was. With Daniel's loss I could no longer lie to myself. My lover, the man I thought I loved, was a monster.

  I functioned. I breathed. I pretended—I was really good at that one. I existed, but I no longer lived.

  My days spread before me like a deck of cards. Were there only fifty-two left? Two? Was I the Queen everyone thought I was? Or was I really the Joker?

  A joke, that's what I was.

  My house of cards had collapsed.

  I was in deep shit. And my only way out was the same as Daniel's.

  ***

  I hid under my blankets alone in my condo. My eyes were puffy and red, a pile of tissues by the bed. I had already gone through two pints of Ben & Jerry's … one of which was supposed to be Daniel's.

  Each spoonful of Chunky Monkey was followed by tears. Their salt mixed with the sticky sweetness that I'd forever associate with emptiness. They pooled in the divots and hollows that the spoon and missing chunks of walnuts left behind.

  I'd have to pull myself together—and soon—or I'd be next. Special powers or not, I was still expendable. Everyone was.

  Hate warred with love for space in my heart.

  If Alejandro knew…

  Well, Alejandro couldn't know. There was no alternative. I'd just have to force a nonchalance I didn't feel. I'd have to hide the hate that gnawed at my insides.

  I hated what he'd done.

  But I hated myself almost as much. I was the one who told Alejandro, the one who revealed Daniel's lie. I signed his death warrant.

  I should have just let it go, like the tears that fell down my cheeks unrestrained. I buried my face in the plush comforter and sobbed anew.

  The next day dawned with my abrupt orientation to my new reality: my world without Daniel.

  I swallowed the tears that threatened. I had to shake it off, or at least act like it. I had court today.

  I could grieve in the sanctity of my condo, in private. But everywhere else, I'd have to pretend as though I didn't care. As if nothing mattered.

  With the recent disgrace, Alejandro and the other members of the House would be on the lookout for other cracks in the family that needed to be dealt with. I knew I'd be under particularly harsh scrutiny.
<
br />   I refused to die like that. Instead my hate found a new focus. One I could easily blame.

  Kyra.

  If she hadn't gotten involved with Daniel none of this would have happened. Daniel would still be alive.

  I found myself by the pool on the roof. The early rays of the dawn reflected on the water in a graceful transition from pink to orange. I dove in, disturbing the smooth surface. My strokes sure as I shed the sadness with each movement and locked it away.

  I steeled myself for the new day. For picking up my life like a pair of pants and pulling them back on…only I knew it would never fit right.

  At least Fate, the fickle bitch, was on my side. As the only one with my power there was no one to disclose my lies. Since I was so good at believing truths that weren't really there, maybe I'd be good enough to convince myself.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The water from the shower scalded my skin. I could see the steam, but I couldn't feel it. The numbness kept me cocooned, safe from doing something brash and getting killed.

  I managed court without any real issues, thankful that the judge was a decent man. I didn't have to dodge barely concealed contempt or barbs. I'm not sure if I'd have handled it well.

  Martha Sams was prosecuting—my only hiccup in the case. She was older, wiser, and more experienced. I had my work cut out for me on my best day. We were cordial inside and out of the courtroom, but she had it in for Alejandro. And she never let me forget how much she hated him. I worried about keeping the protective shroud around me with her sharp eyes and blunt tongue.

  I had planned to just skirt out after court was dismissed for the day, hide under the covers with another pint of Ben & Jerry's and some mindless TV until I had to plaster on my game face again. It figured that Martha was waiting for me, my luck seemed to be running out lately.

  "You look like shit." She smirked. "Trouble in paradise?"

  I kept the mask in place, unflinching. "Just a rough night," I snapped, as I shoved my arms into my suit jacket. "Martha I have to run—"

  "The case dismissed early today." Her eyes narrowed, a knowing glint in their depths. "I know you can spare me a few minutes." She snatched my arm, her fingers digging into my skin as she dragged me out the door. "I'll treat you to a coffee."

  "I don't want coffee."

  "Tea then."

  "Martha, really. I can't—"

  "They have donuts."

  I grumbled but shook my arm loose, walking beside her on my own steam. Bitch. She knew I'd cave.

  Settling into a table with a cup of black tea cradled between my hands, I stared at the whirls of steam as they rose from the cup. They danced in the eddies of air from the door, which opened every few minutes with a new soul searching for caffeine or sugar. The steam was on one path, but was forced to shift every time the air from the door whirled by.

  I sighed. The air expelled from deep within my soul. I knew exactly how that felt.

  "I'm glad court ended early so we could talk."

  I made a worthless, noncommittal hum and forced my wandering focus to the prosecutor.

  "You were off in court today," she quipped sharply, watching me over the rim of her cup.

  "You know we shouldn't talk about the case," I tossed back.

  She snorted, rolling her eyes at me. "I've been practicing law since you were in diapers."

  Shoving the donut in my mouth, I closed my eyes as the sugar exploded on my tongue. "God that's good."

  "Told you."

  "I'll need to add a few sessions at the gym if I keep eating like this."

  "You can spare it."

  "Not likely."

  "Oh please," she scoffed. "You could gain a few pounds and not even notice." She swiped a strand of gray hair out of her eyes. "You're young, no kids. Your metabolism hasn't fallen all to shit like mine."

  My eyes roved over the prosecutor. She was in her mid-fifties but she didn't look a day over forty. The only indication of her age was her long gray hair. She refused to dye it, telling me once it was a badge of honor for surviving parenthood with three boys. Her milk chocolate skin was decorated with an abundance of laugh lines and crow's feet from squinting in the Florida sun. It was a road map of the life she had lived. I knew it hadn't been an easy one, being one of the earliest female prosecutors, and the first minority. Racism and sexism might be more covert than it was when she started, but it was still rampant. I knew firsthand how sexist a lot of these pricks in the judicial system could be.

  The trim suit she wore didn't hide her chiseled calves or forearms. Her strong frame and strength shone through her posture, her every movement. She still ran marathons in her off-time and she looked it.

  I didn't comment, staring at her instead. My mind wandered to the pint in my freezer calling my name. It had real milk in it. I could count that as dinner, right?

  "Arabella, talk to me. What's got you off your game today?"

  Like I could tell her.

  I ached to talk to someone, to unburden the oppressive weight on my heart. The words spilled from my lips without my permission.

  "My best friend is dead." I choked on the words.

  Her hand covered mine, brown eyes swimming with sympathy. I was still numb and felt nothing, not even the comfort of her hand.

  "I'm so sorry." Her concern was genuine. "Why don't you take a few days off to grieve? I'd back up delaying the case for a week."

  I shook my head, my frown deepened. "I need to keep busy."

  "You need to grieve."

  "I don't have time to grieve. I'm not allowed," I ground out between clenched teeth. I hadn't meant to blurt out the last part. I slumped in my seat. The exhaustion from keeping up the pretense that everything was fine hit me hard.

  "He won't let you take a break?" We both knew who he was. She hated Alejandro and refused to hide it. He brought us together, but also kept us from really being friends. I defended his corporations, she went after them.

  Of course, Martha knew nothing of the House or any of the preternatural elements, and she never would. But she knew he was dirty. Knew his fingers were in dummy corporations as much as legal ones. She knew, but she didn't have the evidence to go after him. And never would, no matter how much she badgered me.

  Human law was a facade. The real law in Tampa was Alejandro.

  My lips pressed thin as I held in the words. I refused to say anything more about it.

  Anger flashed in her narrowed gaze as she zeroed in on me. "We've had this conversation countless times and you're upset, so I won't push you. But you know where we stand. I'm still here if you decide to shift sides. I can protect you."

  Hysteria threatened.

  She meant well, she really did. Kindness and concern oozed from her. But she couldn't protect me. The prosecutor had no clue how far Alejandro's reach was, and that wasn't something she'd learn from me.

  "You'd make a fabulous prosecutor." The change of topic allowed me to take a breath. "You're like a pit bull." A smile blossomed, taking twenty years off. "You remind me of myself at your age, only more arrogant."

  A startled laugh escaped and I finished my donut, licking the cinnamon sugar topping off my fingers. "No thank you. I enjoy having a paycheck to spend."

  "Is the money worth it?"

  The question echoed in my mind.

  At first it was.

  I had been exhausted—working a part-time job in addition to carrying a full course load at law school—when I was approached by an associate in Alejandro's corporation. The fun of undergrad had been left far behind as I struggled to keep my tuition and the rent for my crackerbox of an apartment paid. I'd been fortunate enough to have a full ride to undergrad. The challenges of grad school plus the constant financial struggle was wearing. It reminded me of the poverty I'd struggled to escape growing up, it kept me focused on my goal. Sometimes brutally so.

  To a young girl facing mounting law school debt, the offer of a high-profile, high-paying gig straight out of school was a godsend. That
it came with tuition reimbursement, an office, and a condo in his exclusive building made me feel like my sacrifices were finally being rewarded. I barely thought twice before signing on the line and joining the corporation. Soon afterward Alejandro himself proposed a new arrangement, bringing me into the House, opening my eyes to a whole world I'd never known. A life of luxury and decadence. Of betrayal and cruelty.

  Is it worth it?

  No.

  But I couldn't admit that to anyone.

  ***

  Despite the absence of Daniel and Kyra, business in the House continued as normal. Instead of burning flesh during our interviews, we returned to the old standby of knives and baseball bats. Messier, but I'd take the copper scent of blood over singed hair and burnt skin any day.

  I hated the interrogations, but I couldn't protest, no matter how much they turned my stomach. I was the only one who could read their lies. With me on board, the interrogations were shorter, more efficient. My presence was necessary.

  That's how he explained killing Daniel, too: necessary.

  Sweat dripped down the man's face, leaving tracks through the dust that covered him. It pooled in the hollows of his throat.

  The nameless man was on his knees, arms bound behind his back. Petre loomed over him, a look of disgust on his face. The huge enforcer hated these interrogations almost as much as I did, although the vampire never complained. Petre was a lover, not a fighter, but his sizable build and abundance of chiseled muscle had him acting as an enforcer more often than he'd like.

  "Please, I don't know anything," the man whimpered from the floor. An orange rune appeared on his neck and faded quickly. I jerked my head to Alejandro.

  I didn't see what Petre did, but the man cried out in pain.

  "Tsk tsk, Terrence. You'll find that I don't like liars." Alejandro toyed with him.

  "I don't know what you're talking about, I swear!" Another rune flared to life, again I nodded. So the man's name was Terrence. Great, now I had a name for the screams that would echo in tonight's nightmares.

  While I felt bad for the guy, sort of, I wasn't the least bit tempted to lie. It would be easy to just ignore a symbol or two, spare him a little pain and suffering. But why should I? If I wouldn't lie to save my best friend, why would I do it to spare him a few minutes of agony? He was going to die anyway.